You will be missed
by SpringFling
Summary: For all Prussia lovers - read this and weep.
1. Prussia's Death

**Prussia's Death**

Disclaimer:

I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters.

Prussia lay on the bed, a pearl-white sheet pulled up to his chest. His red eyes faded in and out of focus, looking at the ceiling. Then a face blocked his view – even with his eyes unfocused he could make out the blurry expression of Germany.

The blue-eyed man looked down at his older brother with a concerned expression. Prussia tried to smile cheerfully, but could only manage a weak grimace.

"Will he be all right?" Germany asked, turning to the man standing beside him. The man was wearing a white lab coat, indicating that he was a doctor. The doctor leaned in and whispered something into Germany's ear. The blonde man's face fell at whatever the doctor told him; it turned ashen with fear.

Germany knelt by the narrow bed and clasped Prussia's hand in his. "Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered. "You knew that this was going to happen, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me?" His voice rose a little at the last sentence.

Prussia only shook his head slightly, not finding the strength to speak. A tear trickled out of the corner of Germanys eye.

"Why?" He demanded. "Why!" Germany threw his head towards the heavens, demanding an explanation from them. "Why are you taking him? What has he done?" When his light blue eyes found Prussia's red ones again, they were filled with grief. "Why?" He whispered again, softly.

"It was meant to be." Prussia said, forcing his mouth to bring out the words. Germany's head snapped back up again, hearing his older brother speak. "You knew it was coming, too. Didn't you?" He fell silent once again, not wanting to waste any more breath than necessary.

Germany was now weeping silently into Prussia's sleeve. "Don't leave me." He said. "Don't leave me!" His voice rose to a scream, filled with loneliness and despair.

Prussia smiled a small, sad smile with whatever strength he could find in him. He knew that his time was up. "I love you, West. Always remember that. Stay strong, mein kleiner Bruder."

Having said those words, he took his last silent breath and his chest fell still. Germany willed it to rise once again, but as the seconds went by he knew that it would not. He wailed into the silence, wailed until he could no longer use his voice.

When Italy, Japan and the Allies entered the room they found Germany weeping by the bed, clutching Prussia's arm desperately. They remained there for some time, until Italy finally went up to Germany and hugged him from behind. For once, he wasn't his cheerful self.

"Germany." He spoke softly. "He's gone." Germany raised his tear-stained face and looked into the dull red eyes of his once-proud brother. His chest racked with sobs – throughout it all Italy held him and whispered soothing words into Germany's ear.

The German cried until he could no more. Only then did he rise to his feet and look towards the door, where the others were standing silently. Their heads were all lowered in silent prayer to the dissolved country. No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, German tried to speak. Nothing came out, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Prussia has passed on." He said quietly.

Germany turned around one last time to look down at his brother. If he hadn't known better, he would have said that Prussia was only sleeping. "Goodbye." He said softly, so softly that only he could hear.

Then he turned, freed himself from Italy's arms and walked out the door. The countries made a path for him, letting him pass silently. They all watched him leave, and then returned to their homes as well. There was no joking around that day, and the World Meeting was canceled.

Germany made his way back to his house, with Italy trailing behind him. The tall man could only think about putting one foot in front of another as he traveled the familiar route home. Reaching his front door he fished his keys out of his front pocket and unlocked the door. He stepped over the threshold and went over to the dining table. There he fell into a chair, and stared blankly at the counter in front of him.

He felt numb, deprived of all emotion. He would have cried if there had been any more tears left in him. _When was the last time you cried, _his mind asked him. Italy quietly entered and closed the door behind him. Then he sat down next to Germany, silently mourning for Prussia.


	2. The Plan

**Planning**

Disclaimer:

I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters.

Italy walked out of the office, softly clicking the wooden door behind him shut. His head hung down and his eyes followed the path that his shoes took. Because he didn't look up, the Italian didn't notice the other countries standing there, and crashed into France, standing in the front.

"Italy! Didn't you see me standing there?" France asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"It was your fault, Frog." England muttered from somewhere behind him. France turned around to face England, ready to reply with another insult, when he realized that Italy was just standing there, head bowed.

"Italy?" Russia asked him in his soft voice. "What's wrong?"

Italy finally raised his head, and there were tears brimming in his amber eyes. "What happened to Germany?" He asked the group, with sadness lacing his voice. "His desk was messy! That's never happened!"

For a small moment there was a pause. Then America wrapped an arm around the small mans shoulders. "Let's have a party, then! Parties cheer up everyone!"

Romano was about to reply with some rude remark about parties and America, when Spain clamped a hand over his mouth, successfully silencing his protests. Slowly the countries began to nod, some with more reluctance than others. England raised his mop of eyebrows to the sky, impressed with America. _He actually figured that out on his own?_

The group slowly filed out of the building, with America at its head – with some talk about him being the hero – and into the soft warmth of the morning sun. When everyone was assembled outside, a heated discussion began about when to have the party and what part everyone would play in it.

Arguments were thrown about for a while, until Italy said, "Vee, Why don't we have it today? It's Doitsu's birthday!"

France's mouth dropped open. "It's Germany's _Birthday?_" He asked, to be sure that what he'd heard was correct.

Italy nodded his hair up and down, an easy smile on his face. Then a small frown appeared on his face. "Didn't Doitsu tell you?"

All of the countries shook their heads. "All right then!" America yelled for everyone to hear. "Let's get to work! First the place – Switzerland, we can surely have the party at your house, right?" Saying that he draped an arm around the blonde-haired man.

Switzerland shook him off, annoyed. "When did you get that idea?"


End file.
